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USA
You say “fuck you” to the President of USA. Nothing happens, you become famous, they make you write a book and you make millions of dollars. But meanwhile the President sues you and gets all the money you have.

England
You say “fuck you” to the Prime Minister of England. The Prime Minister says “fuck you” to you too.

France
You say “fuck you” to the President of France. Millions of people support you and say “fuck you” to the President. Meanwhile the President of France writes poems because of his sadness.

Japan
You say “fuck you” to the Emperor of Japan. The Emperor bows and says “I velly solly; I not intelested on your body.”

Germany
You say “fuck you” to the President of Germany. The police come and say “Please don’t fuck the President”.

Sweden
You say “fuck you” to the Prime Minister of Sweden. People vote if they accept you to fuck the Prime Minister or not. If the answer is yes, you fuck the Prime Minister. If the answer is no, the Prime Minister shakes your hand.

Romania
You say “fuck you” to the President of Romania. The President starts dancing with you with gypsy music.

Turkey
You say “fuck you” to the President of Turkey. The President takes his gun and shoots you. He goes to jail for 8 years or escapes the country and Greece welcomes him as a political refugee.

Greece
You say “fuck you” to the President of Greece. The president takes his gun and shoots you. He goes to jail for 8 years or escapes the country and Turkey welcomes him as a political refugee.

China
You say “fuck you” to the President of China. The president literally fucks you.

Italy
You say “fuck you” to the President of Italy. You get price quotes from the Mafia for realizing your passion.

Russia
You say “fuck you” to the President of Russia. The president kisses your mouth.

Saudi Arabia
You say “fuck you” to the President … But there is no President, you become foolish. But if you say “fuck you” to the King, the King cuts your tongue out.

Pure Socialism
You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else’s cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you a glass of milk.

Bureaucratic Socialism
Your cows are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs the regulations say you should need.

Fascism
You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.

Pure Communism
You share two cows with your neighbors. You and your neighbors bicker about who has the most “ability” and who has the most “need”. Meanwhile, no one works, no one gets any milk, and the cows drop dead of starvation.

Russian Communism
You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the black market.

Perestroika
You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the Mafia takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the “free” market.

Cambodian Communism
You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.

Dictatorship
You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.

Totalitarianism: You have two cows. The government takes them and denies they ever existed. Milk is banned.

Pure Democracy
You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

Representative Democracy
You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.

British Democracy: You have two cows. You feed them sheeps’ brains and they go mad. The government doesn’t do anything.

Bureaucracy
You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.

Capitalism
You don’t have any cows. The bank will not lend you money to buy cows, because you don’t have any cows to put up as collateral.

Pure Anarchy
You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.

Anarcho-Capitalism
You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.

Surrealism
You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

Olympics-ism
You have two cows, one American, one Chinese. With the help of trilling violins and state of the art montage photography, John Tesh narrates the mooo-ving tale of how the American cow overcame the agony of growing up in a suburb with (gasp) divorced parents, then mentions in passing that the Chinese cow was beaten every day by a tyrannical farmer and watched its parents butchered before its eyes. The American cow wins the competition, severely spraining an udder in a gritty performance, and gets a multi-million dollar contract to endorse Wheaties. The Chinese cow is led out of the arena and shot by Chinese government officials, though no one ever hears about it. McDonald’s buys the meat and serves it hot and fast at its Beijing restaurant.

Enviromentalism: You have two cows. The government bans you from milking or killing them.

Political Correctness: You are associated with (the concept of “ownership” is a symbol of the phallo-centric, war mongering, intolerant past) two differently – aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of non-specified gender.

Apartheid
You have two cows. You give the black cow’s milk to the white cow to drink and don’t milk the white cow.

Welfare State
You have two cows. You milk them and give them the milk to drink.

United Nations
You have two cows. Russia vetoes the farmer from milking them. Britain and France veto the cows from milking the farmers. USA abstains.

Idealism
You have two cows. You marry and your wife milks them.

Realism
You have two cows. You get married and you still milk them.

Zeitgeist
You have two cows. They are robotic. Everyone gets the electric milk.

Common Sense
You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.

Clintonism
You have two cows. But you milk your neighbors’ cows.

Osamaism
You have two cows. You convert them into biological weapons.

Talibanism
You have two cows. You put them in purdah.

UN-ism
You have two cows. You don’t milk them; you only lecture to them.

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The Prime Minister of Israel sits down with Arafat at the beginning of negotiations regarding the resolution of the conflict.

The Prime Minister requests that he be allowed to begin with a story. Arafat replies, “Of course.”

The Prime Minister begins his story: “Years before the Israelites came to the Promised Land and settled here, Moses led them for 40 years through the desert. The Israelites began complaining that they were thirsty and, lo and behold, a miracle occurred and a stream appeared before them. They drank their fill and then decided to take advantage of the stream to do some bathing–including Moses. When Moses came out of the water, he found that all his clothing was missing.

“‘Who took my clothes?’ Moses asked those around him.

“‘It was the Palestinians,’ replied the Israelites –“

“Wait a minute,” objected Arafat immediately, “there were no Palestinians during the time of Moses!”

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WASHINGTON, DC–On Tuesday, Congress approved the Americans With No Abilities Act, sweeping new legislation that provides benefits and protection for more than 135 million talentless Americans.

The act, signed into law by President Clinton shortly after its passage, is being hailed as a major victory for the millions upon millions of U.S. citizens who lack any real skills or uses.

“Roughly 50 percent of Americans–through no fault of their own–do not possess the talent necessary to carve out a meaningful role for themselves in society,” said Clinton, a longtime ANA supporter. “Their lives are futile hamster-wheel existences of unrewarding, dead-end busywork: xeroxing documents written by others, fulfilling mail-in rebates for Black & Decker toaster ovens, and processing bureaucratic forms that nobody will ever see. Sadly, for these millions of nonabled Americans, the American dream of working hard and moving up through the ranks is simply not a reality.”

Under the Americans With No Abilities Act, more than 25 million important-sounding “middle man” positions will be created in the white-collar sector for nonabled persons, providing them with an illusory sense of purpose and ability. Mandatory, non-performance-based raises and promotions will also be offered to create a sense of upward mobility for even the most unremarkable, utterly replaceable employees.

The legislation also provides corporations with incentives to hire nonabled workers, including tax breaks for those who hire one non-germane worker for every two talented hirees.

Finally, the Americans With No Abilities Act also contains tough new measures to prevent discrimination against the nonabled by banning prospective employers from asking such job-interview questions as, “What can you bring to this organization?” and “Do you have any special skills that would make you an asset to this company?”

“As a nonabled person, I frequently find myself unable to keep up with co-workers who have something going for them,” said Mary Lou Gertz, who lost her position as an unessential filing clerk at a Minneapolis tile wholesaler last month because of her lack of notable skills. “This new law should really help people like me.”

With the passage of the Americans With No Abilities Act, Gertz and millions of other untalented, inessential citizens can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Said Clinton: “It is our duty, both as lawmakers and as human beings, to provide each and every American citizen, regardless of his or her lack of value to society, some sort of space to take up in this great nation.”

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Well dere once was a story ’bout a man named Bill;
Da poor president couldn’t keep his willie still;
Den one day he was workin’ at his desk,
When in walks Monica and shows da boy her chest…

Boobs, that is. Two of ’em. Bodacious ta ta’s.

Well da next thing ya know, Monica is on her knees,
Mouth open wide and as happy as you please;
Bill sez, “oh yeah now-don’t say a thing,”
“If you do a good job then we’ll have a little fling.”

Blow job, that is. Phalli osculation.

Well, Bill lost his load and it fell upon her dress,
He said, “Clean it up, ‘cuz you really are a mess,
And you’re invited here to dis fine locality,
To have a heapin’ helpin’ of little Willie C.”

Da wiener, that is. Da presidential staff.

So week after week, Monica is on her knees
Keepin’ Willie and his Wiener just as happy as you please,
But then she figured out dat the fling had gone too far,
And she blabbed it all to Linda Tripp who blabbed it all to Starr.

Bad girl, that is. Cigars. Bodacious ta ta’s.

Well it weren’t too long till we all knew the score,
’bout da stuff dat went down behind da oval office door;
Da country’s in da toilet and da people cry, “No More”
But if we oust da cheatin’ jerk, den we gotta live with Gore.

Boob, that is. Great big one. Head stuck up his rear.

So now ya know da story ’bout Bill our president,
Wonderin’ if dis fling’s gonna cost him every cent;
So da moral of da story is to do it quietly,
And stay outta trouble with dat bitch named Hillary.

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President George W. Bush is visiting an elementary school today and he visits one of the 4th grade classes. They are in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings.

The teacher asks the President if he would like to lead the class in the discussion of the word, “tragedy.” So the President asks the class for an example of a “tragedy.”

One little boy stands up and offers, “If my best friend, who lives next door, is playing in the street and a car comes along and runs him over, that would be a tragedy.”

“No” says Bush, “that would be an accident.”

A little girl raises her hand: “If a school bus carrying 50 children drove off a cliff, killing everyone involved, that would be a tragedy.”

“I’m afraid not” explains the President. “That’s what we would call a GREAT LOSS.”

The room goes silent. No other children volunteer. President Bush searches the room. “Isn’t there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?”

Finally, way in the back of the room, a boy named Johnny raises his hand. In a quiet voice he says, “If Air Force One, carrying you and Mrs. Bush, was struck by a missile and blown up to smithereens, that would be a tragedy.”

“Correct” exclaims Bush, “that’s right. And can you tell me WHY that would be a tragedy?”

“Well,” Little Johnny said, “because, like you just told us, it wouldn’t be an accident, and it sure as heck wouldn’t be a great loss.”